Nature and Blight

By M. C. Rogers

The forces of Blight have surrounded Mother Nature’s castle and she must make a decision. A decision most will find wanting and utterly surprising. It doesn’t matter. Her forces are thin, all warriors needed and the future of the realm at stake. The journey will be difficult, full of hardships and peril but the two are loyal, she their monarch, so they agree to perform the service.
Sergeant Savage has encircled the fortress, waiting patiently for Nature to surrender. He’s a mercenary, a hired hand, employed by Prince Blight to take the fortification with the promise of gold in exchange. Savage is willing to wait as the siege does its job, Blight is not. When he learns of a plan to end his command Savage deserts and the war takes on a completely different dimension.
There are many who call the realms their home. Trolls, Orcs, Giants and others in vast numbers roam, all born of differing minds, differing attitudes, differing appetites. One significant group is the Elvin. Their kind invented the Assassins Guild and are killers of legendary status. They are guided by a principle which has given them power but some are not pleased. Inside their ranks another sect has taken form, one more sinister, one more deadly, one with the desire to rule all.
Wort and Stu are anything but heroes. They are short, squat and possess nothing in the way of savior qualities. They are, however, all Mother Nature can spare. Their journey begins as they flee the castle. They have a message to deliver and little time to perform the task. They believe they’ve gotten away without anyone the wiser. They are wrong. Another has taken notice and the games have just begun.
So begins the War of Realms where creatures of nightmares stalk the land, fairy tales come to life and the forces of good oppose those who are not.

• Language: English
• Publisher: M. C. Rogers
• Release date: Dec 3, 2013
• ISBN: 9781310032349

M. C. Rogers

Born mid-March, latter-half, last century in Pasadena, Texas. Reared a military brat with privilege: Father, Coast-Guard pilot; Mother, willing accompliss. Began writing while failing at the following endeavors; dishwashing, dry-cleaning, personal training, paramedicing, bartending, welding, and sales. Currently exploring the culinary world with curiosity, astonishment, and grumbling tummy.

Book preview

Chapter 1: A Midgling Mission

The Siege (Castle Nirvana)

Nelson and Wort were not the most intimidating pair for they were only three feet tall, two feet wide and built for other things. They were, however, all the Queen could afford. They knelt in her presence as was the custom.

Your Majesty.

Please rise.

They stood to their full height and squared their shoulders for she was their sovereign, they her subjects and the castle under siege.

I require your help.

Anything, Your Worshipness.

She was the most beautiful, a delight to the eye and fresh air to the lungs.

I need you to bring a message to Father Time.

The two looked at Mother Nature as if she’d asked them to commit suicide. Which was possible, by the way, for they were anything but messenger material.

Us?

Yes.

They were rather surprised because normally they were used for other purposes. Both were of the generalized labor class. They held no particular traits which would come in useful during times of war but were handy around the castle for they held a quality the Queen found admirable; they were steadfast in purpose when given a chore.

Um, are you sure you want us to do it, Ma’am? I’m sure there are others who might be a little, uh… Stu began.

Capabler! Wort finished.

Capabler?

Yes, Your Majestic One, it means more capable.

Mother Nature decided not to correct him on his definitional abilities. She looked down on her two servants with a smile for they truly were her favorites. She wished she had others available but all were needed in defense of the realm. The two before her were the only she could trust to give it their all against incredible odds.

I am sorry but I’ve made up my mind and decided you are the perfect subjects for the job. It will be dangerous and you may not live through the experience… she started but didn’t finish for at the mention of danger the two fainted on the spot.

The kingdom of Nirvana was under siege by Prince Blight, the son of King Rot. King Rot held sway over Pestilence and had designs on Mother Nature’s realm. Blight had moved under the cover of darkness and surrounded Castle Nirvana, cutting off all avenues of escape. Mother Nature’s forces held the castle for they were of sound character and experienced warriors. The two armies were at a draw and she wished to alter the game. The Midglings were her best hope.

Stu?

Yes, Wort?

Are you taking your brown or green tunic?

Both were in chambers preparing for their adventure after the Queen’s servants woke them through use of cold water poured from wooden buckets.

I was actually wondering that myself. I keep leaning toward the brown but then get worried about foliage.

Uh-huh, me too. What if we run into a bunch of green plants and we’re wearing our browns?

Yep, that would probably be a bad idea.

They dwelt on the subject for a protracted period of time before they mutually agreed on a solution, packed their remaining supplies in various pockets and ran down the stairwell to greet the Queen and receive her message for Father Time. Again, they knelt in her presence.

Your Majesty.

Please rise.

They stood to their regal height but had trouble squaring their shoulders for they were sweating profusely and a little light-headed from the exertion.

Are you two all right?

Yes, Your Perfectness, just a little hot.

She looked closer at her two trusted servants and became aware of something slightly different with their width.

Why are you two bundled up?

Well, Your Gracefulness, we were having a little trouble deciding on the proper attire for our trip so we talked it over and came to the conclusion we should take both colors.

The Queen glanced around but did not see what she expected.

Are you wearing both outfits?

Yes, Your Loveliness, we decided we’d go with the brown underneath and the green overtop. We figured if we run into some brown on the way we could switch the two and keep on moving Stu said with obvious pride at their reasoning abilities.

Where are your backpacks?

Both looked at the other with quizzical expressions.

Backpacks?

Yes, backpacks. The ones in your closet.

Both again looked at the other for it did seem a rather logical solution to their dilemma.

Um… Ma’am?

Yes, Wort?

May we be excused for about five minutes?

She nodded her assent and the two raced back up the stairs to remove the layers of clothing and stood there for a second in consternation.

Okay, we’ve got the same problem as before.

Uh-huh.

So, which one?

I’m thinking green.

I’m thinking brown.

They were in a quandary for they had no idea which color scheme was better for message-delivery. They might’ve stood there all day if Stu hadn’t received and epiphany.

Let’s do both! Green on top, brown on bottom.

So they adorned their clothes in the manner they felt would give them the greatest possibility of success, raced down the stairs, knelt and rose to their full heights with confidence in their hearts they had chosen the proper wear.

Where are your backpacks?

And raced back up the stairs to retrieve what they’d forgotten, turned around and raced decidedly slower downward for they were not made of stair-racing stock.

Please rise.

Huff-puff!

Wheeze!

Those of importance were in attendance for their survival was at stake. General Shield stood at attention to Mother Nature’s left while her trusted adviser, Councilor Clearview, was to her right.

Are you sure about this, My Queen? the General asked as the two before him gasped in great gulps of air to counteract stair-climbing exhaustion.

Yes, General, we have no one else to spare. Besides, I have always believed in the power of loyalty and these two before us are more loyal than most.

The General nodded his head for he did not doubt the loyalty of the two, only their competence. The General was the best of her men and had proven his own merit many times over. He had risen through the ranks and was respected by the men for doing so. He was honest, hardworking and stern, but also forgiving of those who tried their best. The two in front of him, however, were testing his forgiveness ability for they were bent over at the waist with tears in their eyes attempting to catch their breaths before they were sent off to save the kingdom.

Councilor?

Yes, My Queen?

Do you have the note and amulets?

He indicated he did and produced the items from his robe. Councilor Clearview was a valued member of Mother Nature’s inner circle. He was intelligent, wise, shrewd in the ways of the world and she’d relied on his advice ever since taking reign of Nirvana.

Have you two recovered yet?

Gasp!

Snort!

She allowed them time for their lungs to acclimate. After indicating they could concentrate on her words she chose them carefully because she did not want a repeat of the fainting variety.

Okay, I want you to give this message to Father Time. I am also giving you amulets which will provide you passage through areas under my control.

She handed Stu the rolled-up parchment and placed one amulet each around the necks of the two who beamed with pride because they’d never been given amulets and felt they were receiving medals.

Okay, General, please describe your plan for our two messengers.

The General walked over to a table, peered down at a map and began describing his desire.

Yes, My Queen. Okay, to get you outside the castle is not going to be hard, it’s getting you through the enemy’s forces which is the tough part. Prince Blight has stationed his larger brutes towards the front of the enforcement with his smaller, more agile creatures to the rear. So what we’re going to do is create a raiding party and exit at dusk. Once you clear the line of Ogres you will need…

Uh, General?

Yes, Councilor?

You may wish to skip any mention of specific creatures.

Huh? Why?

Because it appears you’ve lost your audience.

The General glanced up from his map and saw the two servants flat on their faces, unconsciousness from the mention of the word Ogres.

Chapter 2: A Reluctant Warrior

The Siege (Blights’ Encampment)

Prince Blight, as always, was in a bad mood. It wasn’t his fault for he was born with an improper disposition and the company he kept were not known for their cheery demeanors.

Sergeant Savage! he yelled from his tent which was acting as the command post while his forces surrounded the castle of Nature.

Savage was a mercenary of renown reputation. He was a Human who fought for the highest bidder. He was wanted by authorities in numerous territories and commanded a force of others who held similar backgrounds. He was an expert with the sword, deadly with a bow and lethal with a dagger. He had an exceptional military mind which was why the Prince placed him in charge of the army. He was also extremely bored.

Yes, your Highness? he answered as he entered the tent.

Are there any changes to report?

Savage thought of lying because he was a tired of replying with the same answer. He’d already explained to the royal he would advise him the second any alteration to the siege occurred. Since none had, and the Prince would invariably check any rumors of activity, he wisely chose to tell the truth.

No, Your Highness, the siege remains at a standstill.

The Prince had never been a patient individual for it was, alongside a sour personality, one of the traits he acquired from his father.

I want something done right now!

Savage was in a quandary because, surprisingly, he was an honorable man when purchased. It had made him the most sought-after hired-hand in the realm and his employment opportunities were many-fold because his reputation of loyalty through coin was of legendary status. The problem he faced was the obstacles in his path.

Your Highness, we’ve already attempted bombardment and scaling of the walls, both to disastrous results. I believe if we wish to retain a full complement of fighting forces we should wait for the siege to take its full effect.

The siege was relatively simple in design; surround Castle Nirvana and block any supplies from entering or exiting. The difficulties arose from those they were attempting to isolate. Mother Nature, as her name implied, held the power of growth in her hands. Supplies were not exactly a problem for someone who could reap a bountiful harvest of fruits and vegetables inside the castle’s walls on every dining occasion. The soldiers in her army brought along their own unique set of obstacles because they were the elite of the realm. At any time they could easily break through the siege but they didn’t because, while the warriors under the command of General Shield were vastly more efficient than those of the Prince, they were incredibly outnumbered. If they chose to fight near the walls they’d be overcome through sheer force of numbers but if they chose to fight their way through the surrounding force they’d be giving up the one thing Mother Nature relied upon to wield power; Castle Nirvana.

I do not care! The siege is taking too long and I want something done right now!

Savage knew he’d need to quell the Prince’s temper because not doing so might cost his head. The Prince held the power of sadness and depression, a strong gift to hold. The Sergeant felt its might in the abstract one time. He was in the vicinity of an Orc who’d displeased Blight. Orcs were not exactly emotional creatures for their intellect was rather limited but they could feel despair. When the Prince was through with the creature Savage was amazed to witness the four-hundred pound walking, tusked, pig-faced creature wandering around aimlessly pondering the very meaning of its existence. It was not a feeling he wished to experience.

I will get right on it, Your Highness.

Savage bowed, turned and pulled back the tent flap to exit. When he stepped outside he ran into one of the most loathsome creatures he could ever remember encountering.

Ahh, Savage, did the Prince finally come to his senses and rid himself of your horrendous stench.

The Troll who stood before him was seven feet in height, greenish in hue and hideous in appearance. It went by the name of Toodrake but, behind its back, everyone called him Toad. Trolls were the middlemen in Prince Blight’s army for they held a few attributes which allowed them to do so. They were infinitely cruel which appealed to the Ogres and Orcs while maintaining the ability to communicate which came in handy to the mercenaries; Humans and Elvin. Ogres and Orcs were frustrating to those with higher intellect because they could grasp only fundamental concepts. Trolls could speak the guttural language of their larger brethren and were, thus, the ones who passed along orders from those in the rear to those in front.

Hello, Toad Savage replied.

The remark did not go unnoticed. In the Troll’s hand an axe was raised as if to strike down the Sergeant with one swing.

I will take your head for that insult! it hissed.

The Sergeant was not impressed.

Well, you could try but if you make one more movement with that log-splitter you hold, Deadaim is going to put an arrow through your thick skull.

The Troll instantly froze because, at the same time Savage spoke, the unmistakable sound of a longbow’s string, pulling taut, could be heard.

Hello, Toad Deadaim said from twenty feet behind the creature.

Deadaim was one of Savage’s mercenaries and his reputation as one of the greatest archers in the realm came to the mind of the Troll Toodrake. Trolls did indeed have thick skulls which was one of the reasons they were such difficult adversaries but Toodrake also knew his own limitations. He could probably take a glancing blow from an arrow and survive but even his hard head would be pierced if It was shot straight and true from twenty feet away. Trolls were the middlemen because they had, at least, a semblance of intelligence and Toodrake was the Commander of Trolls in the Prince’s army which meant he had a bit more deductive powers than his peers. He did the calculation and came to a conclusion.

We will meet again, Savage he sneered as he lowered his axe and walked away.

Savage and Deadaim had worked together so long they no longer felt the need to communicate. They did so because not talking was awkward and they were both cordial men.

Okay, Sergeant, you might want to quit calling him Toad.

Why? He is a toad.

True, but he’s also seven feet tall and carries a battle axe in one hand.

So?

It’s a battle axe, Sergeant, not a spoon.

I know that. But I also knew you were right behind him.

True again. But it is possible for me to miss.

Savage didn’t think so. In the years he’d known Deadaim he’d never seen the man’s aim waver. It didn’t matter if it was in the heat of battle or a friendly wager; his arrow always hit the mark.

All right, fine, I’ll quit calling him Toad to his face.

Deadaim didn’t believe Savage for one second. In all the time he’d known his Sergeant he’d never seen him shy away from a challenge. The fact he’d won every challenge he’d ever faced probably reinforced his decision process but to Deadaim it didn’t really matter. Savage was his friend and if he wanted to pick a fight with a Dragon he would be at his side.

So, what did the Prince want?

He wants to start hostilities.

Seriously? Doesn’t he know what a different kind of siege this is?

The siege Deadaim talked about was one of boredom. They couldn’t starve Mother Nature out and couldn’t breach Castle Nirvana’s walls so they were employing a technique which, though time consuming, was also highly successful; bore the defenders out. Make life so unbearingly dull they would risk a conflict if only to give themselves a reprieve from the tediousness of castle-life under siege.

I don’t think he cares. I think he just wants to end this siege and if it means losing half his force I believe he’s willing to consider it.

Deadaim pondered what Savage said.

Um, so why are we here again?

Savage pondered what Deadaim said.

Well, I guess, technically, we don’t need to remain any longer. He hired us for a month and its past the allotted time but he offered a handsome reward if we ended the siege. So I guess the reason we’re here is because this is where the money is.

Deadaim thought it over for a second.

All right, good enough for me. So, what do we do next?

I’m thinking shot-put.

Chapter 3: Rock Toss

The Siege (Castle Nirvana)

The catwalk atop Castle Nirvana was manned by the elite archers of the realm and guarded accordingly. Outside the walls the forces of Blight were under constant threat of attack by those who stood upon the ramparts. It would’ve been a complete route by the defenders if not for one small detail; the opposing army contained more creatures than they had arrowheads. So many more, if the archers let loose and dealt a killing blow with every shaft they would still face ten to one odds when the hand-to-hand fighting took place. It was that knowledge which held their bows in check.

Hawkeye!

Yes, General Shield?

Hawkeye Birdsview was a scout in normal times. He could track any animal or creature through terrain others would be blind in. He was an Original Inhabitant of Nirvana and held a deep hatred for those who would attempt to mess with Mother Nature. He turned from his observation-post atop the castle wall as the General scaled the ladder to greet him.

How goes everything?

Hawkeye thought long and hard over the question for it contained many intriguing variables. The siege had lasted well over a month and while the invaders could not advance their cause neither could the defenders. They did not have the resources necessary to deal a devastating blow to the forces of Blight.

Surprisingly well, General, for I believe the enemy is about to attempt something wholeheartedly foolish.

The General looked at the scout with interest. He’d used Hawkeye on many occasions and found the man to be of sturdy character and amazingly effective with bow. The Originals prided themselves on their ability to fire straight and with such rapid velocity the sky was known to turn dark as the shafts of arrows rained down upon those who would seek to claim Original land as their own. The fact they had not been challenged in such a long time attested to the truthfulness of the stories for even Prince Blight had opted to bypass Original Territory as he began his quest to end Mother Nature’s reign.

Why do you think they’re going to attempt something?

Because, General, every time someone issues an order on their side the crowd gets in such a snit of insult they give it away by fighting amongst themselves before they ever got around to fighting us.

General Shield moved to where Hawkeye stood and looked out over the crowd of creatures. Every time he did so he worried if his forces could last long enough for help to arrive. What he saw was both discouraging and encouraging. The army of Blight completely ringed the fortress. In front, nearest the castle’s walls were Ogres; mindless brutes who were only happy when bashing things. It didn’t matter what the things were for they were too ignorant to care. Unfortunately, they were also ten feet in height and eight hundred pounds of bone-shattering muscle. They carried only clubs for they held neither the intelligence nor the patience to learn the ways of higher warfare. Again, it didn’t matter because to get struck by an Ogre, whether by club or without, was instantaneous death.

The second ring of attackers were Orcs. They were smarter than their Ogre neighbors and could manage a spear. They stood over eight feet tall and generally weighed four to five hundred pounds. They were also sadistically cruel. They were known to torment their victims for the pleasure of dong so and usually attacked in groups for while they could not count to three they could see the benefit of twenty steel-tipped shafts over one alone.

The third ring consisted of Trolls. A little smaller and lighter than Orcs they made up for it with the ability to coordinate attacks. Their higher intelligence allowed them to employ weapons such as battle axes and whips. They were efficient in their use and devious in their implementation. They held no regard for the life of others, were untrustworthy to even their own kind and known to change sides in the middle of battle if it furthered their interests.

The final ring of Blight’s forces consisted of two races; Humans and Elvin. Both were paid and found in various stages of loyalty, cunning, trustworthiness and cruelty. They held the exterior and were the commanders of Blights ramshackle army. They trusted no one for they themselves could not be trusted. They were mercenaries; hired to do a job and only the promise of gold held their interest.

The vast numbers of foes was the discouraging part, the makeup of their forces the encouraging. As he allowed his gaze to search further through the hoard he could see what Hawkeye mentioned. It started in the Troll ranks as pushing and shoving led to fist-fighting which led to bloodshed. With the smell of blood the Orcs became interested and began fighting also. It, of course, spread to the Ogres who began bashing with fanatical enthusiasm. Unfortunately, to the General’s thinking, it eventually subsided as the brain-numb beasts finally realized they were attacking the wrong creatures. When he saw the carts brought forward he realized what they were about to attempt.

I wonder if the Ogres remember they tried this before?

I don’t believe Ogres remember their names, General.

The sequence of events was an exact repeat of what occurred at the onset. At the very beginning of the siege catapults were employed. They were enormous flinging devices which hurled boulders at the castle. They were the preferred method of siege-attempting throughout the various kingdoms. They were also sitting ducks to the advanced warriors the kingdom of Nirvana employed. The problem was distance. The catapults were best when used to hurl large boulders at a structure and in order to do so were placed within range. When they were parked the defenders merely rode out in small groups and burned the things where they stood. They could do so because Blight’s creatures were absolutely no match for the Queen’s warriors. As long as they had a target which could be reached in a short period of time they would ride through Blight’s army like a sword through wastewater. After destroying the catapults they returned to the castle and, again, took up their stations. The only answer to Blight’s dilemma proved even more disastrous, not to the wooden scaffoldings but to the creatures he employed to surround the castle. In the carts brought forward were various sizes of large rocks. Not boulders, per se, but stones the size of tabletops and wagon-wheels. The thought was to have many catapults with smaller projectiles perform the function of larger ones. The Ogres became the catapults and the large rocks the boulders. The only problem was sieges had been employed for ages and defenses developed accordingly. On the top of the castle’s walls, where the defenders stood at their posts, were fortified overhangs. When a rock was thrown it would bounce off the reinforced roofing above the defenders’ heads and land safely in the yard below. It was the creature in the yard below which caused all the mayhem to the Prince’s forces.

Goliath was of the race of giants. He stood thirty feet high, ten feet wide and weighed fifteen hundred pounds. His race had been in Nirvana from the beginning. He could crush tree trunks with his bare hands, fight a dragon on land to a standstill and could’ve easily ruled over all if he had the desire. Fortunately for those who wished power for themselves he and his kind were pacifists by nature. They were vegetarians and openly avoided confrontations. To Blight’s dismay, Goliath had deemed an attack on Mother Nature’s castle as one he could not avoid. So when the large rocks were thrown by ten-foot Ogres and landed in a dirt courtyard, Goliath strolled out from under the sheltering he used for protection, picked up the stones and returned them to their original owners with, of course, a slightly differing trajectory resulting in a completely different outcome.

Wow! That had to hurt.

Yep, he really left a mark.

The mark he was talking about was the Troll goo left behind when a rock weighing two hundred pounds descended on an individual from a height of three hundred feet.

Nice shot, Goliath!

Goliath indicated he heard the compliment with a look of eye and nod of head but, the truth was, he loathed performing the deed. Giants were of a different breed. They were few in number and spent most of their lives in quiet contemplation. They were successful in their endeavors because they had no individual enemies, only groups of enemies. To attack a Giant alone was suicide. Their skin was so toughened most swords would break upon impact. Speed had been employed in a futile attempt to find their weakness. However, those who attempted the tactic of rapid assault with retreat soon found themselves dodging both rock and foot as the behemoth on land fought back. In fact, the only real enemies Giants had were Ogres. Ogres were just wise enough to know they stood no chance against a Giant alone but there were times when they found themselves in superior numbers. It was then Giants’ lives were at stake for even one so large as Goliath could be bested by a score of Ogres, especially if they wielded clubs.

Hey, Goliath!

Yes, General? his baritone voice boomed back.

Can you toss one a little bit further to the left next time?

Yes.

The result of which found the Prince’s army ten Orcs fewer. As before, the defenders of the castle cheered whenever one of Goliath’s stones squished an attacker which caused the Ogres to toss even more rocks because, when they heard the cheers, they believed the defenders were rooting them on. It took a command decision at the back of the lines to stop the Orcs from bringing carts to supply Ogres with the means of their own crushing.

Aw, that’s too bad, they’re stopping the assault.

Yeah, but they really did a good job on themselves.

The loss of Ogre, Orc and Troll life was of no significance to Prince Blight because they were easily replaced. The creatures were born to cause mayhem and since war was destruction they willingly took the places of their fallen brethren for the chance to crush, kill and maim.

All right, I think we’ve got ourselves a lull in the fighting, I need you to do something for me, Hawkeye.

Sure, General, what is it?

Sneak behind enemy lines and discover the location of their command post.

Chapter 4: Two Become Three

The Siege (Blight’s Encampment)

Savage and Deadaim were making their way to the forward observation post, not to view the carnage they’d wrought but to speak with another of their kind; the mercenary barbarian, Brutus.

Hey, Brutus, how’s it going?

The blond man was, if not the largest, definitely in the competition for biggest Human alive. His arms rippled with muscles, his chest broad as a bear and the scars he wore attested to survival skills.

Hey, Sergeant. I’m pretty good but the front lines have seen better days.

Savage glanced to where Brutus indicated and shuddered at the sight. The front lines in Prince Blight’s army were, at the same time, both hurling rocks and getting splattered by them. Everything was chaos and the Sergeant, while not exactly a fan of the monstrous army, wasn’t pleased he was ordered to do something he knew would result in so much carnage.

Yeah, pretty much a rout, I’d say Savage remarked.

Looks like a bug-smashing competition Deadaim deadpanned.

Savage couldn’t argue because it did resemble a cockroach stomping contest.

How long are you going to keep this up? the barbarian asked.

Savage thought it over for a second.

Long enough for the Prince to feel we tried to penetrate their defenses. How many have we lost so far?

Brutus looked down to the ground where he’d been making a tally of the losses using a stick to scratch lines every time one of the Prince’s soldier’s was felled by falling rubble.

It appears Goliath is getting better with his aim. We’ve got ten Ogres down, seventeen Orcs and I think four Trolls. But I can’t be positive about their number.

Why not?

Because they look squishy when standing upright. For all I know the mangled mess of Troll-waste are actually nap-takers.

Savage decided the number of losses was acceptable.

Deadaim, head on back and inform the Trolls to tell the Orcs to stop supplying the Ogres with rocks.

Deadaim nodded his head and left.

Savage sat down with the barbarian, took out some dried meat and passed it over to the hulk of a warrior.

Thanks.

You’re welcome.

They sat in silence eating their venison, comfortable in the knowledge they were safe in the other’s company, proving time really was the great healer because when they’d first met it had been at swords’ lengths.

They’d been in the employ of differing monarchs in the territories known as the Wild Lands; an area with borders constantly updated after one ruler defeated another in battle. As was normally the case when a ruler found a gifted warrior they kept the soldier close at hand. In the cases of Savage and Brutus they found themselves as bodyguards for two princes vying to kill the other. The princes were both born from the same father who, in his infinite wisdom, forgot to assign an heir. The two went to war, found themselves facing off on the battlefield which, of course, led Savage and Brutus to pull their swords and begin dancing to Death’s tune. In both cases, the princes’ and the mercenaries’, no one held the upper hand. The fighting lasted for hours and should ‘ve ended in a draw but the hatred of the royals was such they kept going long past the time their bodies could cope. The end to the princes’ reign came quickly and suddenly with both killing the other by thrusting swords through defenses no longer capable of thwarting attack. It left Savage and Brutus in a state of sudden flux for neither was enrolled in an army; they were hired hands employed to do a job then move on to fight for different lieges who also felt they had what it took to lord over all. The question had been broached first by Savage.

You want to stop this nonsense?

Yep, my feet are killing me.

So the two left the battlefield and a friendship formed.

How was your prince?

An imbecile. What about yours?

A moron.

They wandered far and wide, signing on and off with various kings, barons, princes and dukes according to who was likelier to win. The decision of choosing probable victor over gold had two positive effects. First, it kept them alive. Second, since they were always on the winning side their reputations grew to the point where they themselves dictated outcomes. As they won they caught the eye of other mercenaries who also liked the idea of winning. After a while the competing rulers on the opposing sides were bidding against each other for their services. It was no longer decided according to possible victor, it came down to money. Whichever side Savage and Brutus joined would immediately become besieged with other mercenaries willing to throw their hat in the ring because earning pay was slightly more enjoyable if one had the knowledge they’d be able to spend their wages after the fighting was over.

For a while they controlled a mercenary army of their own. It was large, effective and a troublesome venture to say the least. Mercenaries were, by nature, a combative breed of individuals. While in conquest they could be counted on to do their jobs and follow orders admirably. When the fighting halted was when the trouble began. Insults turned to duels and both Savage and Brutus found themselves acting as judge and jury so many times they gave up the idea of leading many. They went back to acting as a pair, siding with one ruler over another and waiting as everyone wised up and joined